Conflicting Natures
by Jestie Uchiha
Summary: Getting reborn in the Death Note world would've been a lot more appreciated if her past life was remembered as more than an uncanny, realistic dream. Making matters worse, she knows nothing of L -whom she is supposed to save- or the Death Note plot; her dreams excluded that important bit of info. Fate, however, has a way of making things work.
1. Prologue: Asleep and Awake

**Conflicting Natures**

**A/N: This is an idea that has been gnawing at my mind forever, so I had to do it. I may not continue it; depends on how many people like it and if I lose interest or not. I don't own Death Note.**

**Prologue: Asleep and Awake**

As an infant, she spent nearly all of her time asleep. That was normal. What wasn't normal, however, were the vivid dreams the infant had each time she closed her eyes.

She dreamt of another life; another family. Her dreams never differed from that life, though that is not to say that the life she dreamt about didn't differ. Bizarrely enough, each dream gave her an odd sense of déjà vu.

It started off with a young girl, and each time she fell asleep that girl got older- be it by months or by a year. The infant relived the girl's home and school life through her eyes.

When the infant was awake, it was obvious to her parents that she was a prodigy. She never cried, and she always seemed to know what she wanted. She was even attempting to walk and talk by only her third month of life.

Before her first birthday, she had perfected her speech- though it often sounded slightly slurred given her minor lack of teeth- and muscle movement, and from there began training to further strengthen her body.

Needless to say, her parents didn't know how to respond to their almost-toddler attempting push-ups. It was too their immense relief that their daughter failed and eventually gave up.

By the time the infant hit her first birthday, the girl in her dreams started college. By default, the infant- who was at this point no longer an infant but a toddler instead- experienced college as well.

The dreams served as both actual lessons and false memories. That combined with her young age allowed the toddler to soak up all the complex information like a sponge. By the age of three, she had a mental degree in Computer Forensics and knew two different languages.

When conscious, the toddler had a knack for evaluating the things and people around her; a trait she picked up from the girl in her dreams. Her eyes, even from the very beginning, were calculating.

And that scared her parents; it unnerved them.

The child didn't notice when her parents began to neglect her. No, she was already too entranced by her dreams, and by the life they offered.

The woman in her dreams, after graduating collage, became an officer. She eventually worked her way up to being a detective, before finally applying for the FBI.

The toddler was nearly four by then, and had mastered three languages.

As time went on, many of the traits, habits, beliefs, and hobbies belonging to the woman were adopted by the girl. As a result, the girl began to form an identity crisis that no one took notice to.

By five, the woman in her dreams had been in the FBI for two years. She was working towards becoming a member of the CIA, but wanted lots of experience under her belt before she did anything.

Much to the child's disappointment and horror, the woman never got to fulfill her dreams.

It had been a particularly troubling day for the child and her family. Her father was leaving them soon, she knew. She could tell by the way her parents fought and the way he acted. He had even begun to pack. Hoping to escape her troubles with the help of her dreams, she had gone to bed early that night.

However, that just made things worse. The woman had been caught during one of her missions. She was tied up by her captures and interrogated. It was the worst thing the child had ever gone through. And despite the fact they were just dreams, she swore she could feel everything.

She woke up crying and in cold sweat every night after that. Descriptive, morbid recounts of everything done to the woman had her scarred mentally. She was already overly mature from the women's life and career, but that had been the final straw for the girl.

All traces of childhood had up and left after that.

She became scared to go to sleep after that. She had no comfort, either. Not long after the dream-interrogations started had her father abandoned them, and her mother turned to alcohol. The girl was alone.

She became an insomniac in her fear of sleeping. That didn't mean she was immune to sleep, though. After pushing her frail body to its limit, she would simply pass out from exhaustion. She hated those moments, because she was powerless and unable to wake up.

The child, through the eyes of the woman, was beat, tortured, and raped. She understood, more so than any child of her age should, what was going on. It was something someone her age should never experience, physically or not.

By the time she turned six, the woman in her dreams was killed.

She didn't dream of the woman again after that. Despite how relieved the girl felt, she couldn't help but feel empty. Part of her was gone.

Relief and emptiness notwithstanding, the damage was done, and the girl refused to sleep until absolutely necessary.

In her spare time, she trained her body more seriously than she had in the past. The time she used to spend sleeping was from then on spent working out or reading a book. She had decided she would complete the woman's ambition for her. She would become a member of the CIA.

Despite the woman being dead, the girl felt closer to her then, than ever before. Her identity crisis was now a distinct part of her, and it all came down to one question:

_Was she Tobi Evans the FBI agent, or was she Avalon Owen the child?_

* * *

**A/N: It was a brief look into my character's infantile years- the most traumatic years of her life that will mold who she turns out to be. The other chapters will be more detailed. Less getting it all out in one go and more taking time to explain how it all happened, ya know?**

**Also, if I continue this, I will eventually need a beta. Any offers?**

**PLEASE REVIEW! It means the world to me, even if it isn't nice. If you see any flaws, tell me so that I may go back and fix them!**


	2. Sane and Insane

**Conflicting Natures**

**A/N: I don't own Death Note. Sorry I took so long to update, took me forever to figure out how to officially start my story.**

**Warning: Suggestive and Dark themes**

**Chapter One: Sane and Insane**

_She felt disgusting, as though she had just been bathed in grime. She felt sick, as though her insides had been filled with goop. She felt like the ultimate filth._

_She tried to focus on the pain radiating throughout her body; tried to intensify every pain she felt so that she would be distracted from the slimy feeling that churned her insides. Alas, the only pain that seemed to intensify was the one that she wanted to dim above all: the pain between her legs._

_Every touch she received revolted her. Every thrust pained her. She almost missed when they would cut and maim her; when they actually bothered trying to get information from her. It was excruciating, but anything was better than this._

_She had been reduced to a lowly whore; a sex toy to be used at the whim of the enemy. She would eventually die knowing that she had lost her virginity, not to a lover, but to a cruel stranger. It made her want to throw up._

_She had never felt so hopeless and miserable. At this point, she would gladly accept death with open arms._

* * *

A strangled cry escaped the lips of a young girl as she jolted awake, coated in cold sweat. Her body trembled from the adrenaline that had been released in her unconscious terror.

"This is why I hate sleeping!" the girl muttered angrily to herself, struggling to keep her voice from cracking. Shakily, she forced herself up from her position on the floor and began rummaging through her possessions.

Grabbing her Sudoku Rubik's Cube, the girl began to solve it in an attempt to calm herself. She loved her Sudoku Rubik's Cube, though she couldn't remember who had gotten it for her. It was her prized possession, and she couldn't even recall where she had gotten it from.

For some reason, that amused her.

Concentrating on the Cube kept her mind occupied. It relaxed her, and helped her forget about her nightmares. The more time she spent focused on her Cube, the steadier her breathing became.

She tried not to think about her horribly vivid nightmares. She tried to ignore them, and pretend she didn't have them despite the fact they were the reason she refused to sleep. She didn't want to think about them because she figured that if she ignored them long enough, she would eventually forget about them; and if she forgot about them, she would no longer dream of them.

However, despite her best efforts, she knew it was impossible to forget about them. As much as she hated them, they were all that remained of the dreams she used to have- they were a part of her.

The dreams she used to have would change; time would pass in those dreams. They were about the life of a woman named Tobi, from her infant years to her adult years. They were always so vivid and realistic. To the girl, they felt more like distant memories than actual dreams.

The girl used to sleep as an escape from reality. When her own life became too dull or troublesome, she would find sanctuary in Tobi's life. It worked up until Tobi got kidnapped and her life became hell.

The nightmares derived from Tobi's hell would differ up until Tobi died. After that, the only dreams- nightmare or otherwise-she had were repeats of what had already taken place.

It was because of her nightmares that the girl was an insomniac. She would go weeks without sleeping, and force herself to stay awake until her body had reached its limit. When that happened, she would simply pass out.

By the time she solved her Sudoku Cube, she had completely calmed down. The nightmare had been repressed to the deepest corners of her mind, and she saw no point on dwelling on it further. Scrambling the Cube once again for later usage, the girl decided to check the date.

Checking the date after crashing was a habit of hers; after all, she could remain unconscious anywhere from a couple hours to a couple of days.

Stalking out of her room, the girl entered the cramped living room. Empty beer bottles and moldy food littered the floor and furniture. In the far corner of the room was an outdated computer that served as her personal haven.

It was also extremely useful for checking the date.

**November fifth, 1987.**

"It's my birthday today…" the girl murmured to herself thoughtfully, "I'm… twenty-nine? No, no… I'm seven. Tobi would be twenty-nine, not me. But am I Tobi? No, no… I'm Avalon, and I'm seven today. How odd it is, that we share a birthday. We share a lot of things, actually…"

It seemed that, somehow, everything related back to her old dreams. There was always this unseen, unbreakable connection that she shared with the life she used to dream about. There was simply no escaping it; it was a part of her.

Avalon scanned the room for her mother in slight paranoia; her mother despised when she talked to herself. Whenever her mother caught her doing it, she would, depending on her state of mind, rant with varying degrees of anger about how demented and mentally unstable Avalon was.

Avalon knew she was not unstable… at least, not yet. Talking to herself actually helped to keep her sane; it helped her decipher her memories from her dreams. She knew she couldn't be considered crazy until the day she was unable to determine which was which.

When her mother could not be found, Avalon heaved a sigh of relief.

"I think I will venture into town today," she decided with a small grin. She didn't go out much- more out of her own social awkwardness than anything else- and she figured the change might be a nice birthday present to herself. It was not like her mother would care; that woman didn't care about anything she did.

Walking back into her room, the cleanest room in the unkempt house, Avalon grabbed her black coat and slipped it on. The coat was much too long for her, reaching down to her knees, but she didn't care.

She glanced around for anything she might need, and ended up stuffing her Sudoku Cube into her pocket. Just in case something happened, she would still have it with her. Having no money to speak of, and very few personal items she was attached to, that was all she needed.

* * *

The town was empty, to her immense relief. Of course, with the sky just beginning to lighten, it made sense that the town had yet to awaken. Not planned, but certainly not unwelcomed.

Whilst Tobi had been extremely social, Avalon was not bestowed with that same gift. Many people were intimidated by her intelligence, and would treat her coldly; not cruelly, just detachedly, with the slightest hint of resentment. Eventually, she learned that it wasn't worth it, and stopped attempting to communicate with others unless necessary.

She paused by a toy shop, pressing her small, chubby hands against the glass. While she was overly mature for her age, she still enjoyed the occasional toy or game. She removed a hand from the glass and began to absentmindedly fiddle with the Sudoku Cube in her pocket.

Games were a great way to occupy her otherwise over analytical thoughts; they took her mind off things, they let her be a kid again.

"I grew up too fast, didn't I? Tobi certainly wasn't like this at my age… or am I Tobi? No, no… I'm not," she sighed.

Another reason she didn't connect with others: Everyone thought she was crazy.

Growing upset with her train-of-thought, she decided to sit down and pull out her Sudoku Rubik's Cube. She couldn't help but feel relieved that she brought it as she, once again, began to solve it.

By the time the owner of the shop came to open it up, Avalon had solved her Cube twice.

Needless to say, the woman was not expecting to see a little girl sitting all alone in front of her shop at 6:30 in the morning. She was about to ask if the girl was ok when she got a good look at her.

The girl had layered chocolate brown hair that reached her shoulders and choppy bangs. Her skin was pale, and her bright silver eyes had- slightly lighter than normal, the woman couldn't help but notice- dark rings under them. What freaked the woman out the most was the unnaturally wise, observant glint the girl's eyes possessed; it's what made her realize who was waiting in front of her shop: Avalon Owen, demon child of poor Rachel Owen.

Avalon eyed the woman critically, taking note of the brief flashes of recognition and distain that danced across the woman's features. Immediately, Avalon knew what the woman was thinking.

She debated leaving before deciding against it. She had a desire to explore the shop that she didn't feel like ignoring, and leaving would make her feel like she lost a secret battle. She didn't like to lose.

So it was with lots of spite that Avalon spent the rest of the day playing in the shop, never bothering to actually buy anything.

* * *

Avalon walked back home with a satisfied smirk. Despite having not gotten anything, feeling the shop owner's irritation as she played in her shop made for a great day.

Avalon paused at the door of her house, hearing voices from inside. Her mother didn't have decent company often- though that's not to say she didn't used to- and anyone being over at this hour was suspicious.

Curious, Avalon crept to the side of the house and sneakily inched a window open enough to be able to hear what was being said inside.

"...don't care, I want it. I will give you anything," her mother pleaded hysterically. From under the cracked open window's seal, Avalon furrowed her brow.

That sounded drastically suspicious, especially given her mother's recent plummet from grace.

"Whatever, lady, what do you got to give, huh? You gave me everything decent you owned while buying your last batch. You either got the money, or you don't. Shit, I don't even know why I came here…" a gruff voice spat.

Avalon held her breath. Definitely suspicious!

"W-w-w-wait! You don't understand… I need it! What about… what about my daughter! She is still very young; you could sell her on the Black Market, o-or something! Please, my stash is almost out!"

Avalon recoiled away from the window in shock, her hands flying to her mouth as her eyes widened. She knew her mother didn't like her; hell, her mother's treatment towards her was borderline Child Abandonment. However, to think she would go this far…

There was obviously something illegal involved. Of course, even an idiot could infer that; after all, her mother even said Black Market, which was, in no way, legal. However, Avalon suspected it went deeper than that; an item of some sort.

Drugs were the only thing her mind could think of. Something much stronger that dope. Given her mother's physical appearance- skeletal thin, skin littered with wounds, hollow eyes- Avalon would guess meth.

Had she actually paid attention to her mother, she might have noticed sooner. Her appearance had definitely deteriorated, and her behavior was even more paranoid and enraged than usual. There were fewer new bottles scattered around the floor, indicating that she had been drinking less even if her behavior said otherwise.

Overall, Avalon had only herself to blame for not noticing sooner.

"I need to be more observant… Especially of those who I am not fond of and I know are not fond of me. Tobi would not have made such a mistake, I am sure of it," she whispered, much too lowly for anyone to hear.

"You're daughter? Who the hell would buy that creepy bitch? Then again, I am sure a freak really wouldn't care if his sex toy was crazy or not. Fine, whatever… I will be back tomorrow morning with the stuff, and she better be ready to leave," the man grumbled, starkly walking out the way he had come.

Avalon hardly heard him leave, so frozen in her horror.

_Sex toy…_

The nightmare she had had earlier that day came spilling back into her mind before she could stop it, and she felt herself shaking with renewed vigor as, suddenly, the dreams seemed so much closer to reality than ever before.

_She had been reduced to a lowly whore; a sex toy to be used at the whim of the enemy. She would eventually die knowing that she had lost her virginity, not to a lover, but to a cruel stranger. It made her want to throw up._

Avalon shuddered violently.

No, that would not be her. She refused to befall the same fate as her dream counterpart. She would have to do something about her mother, but to do that she needed evidence; and the only way to get evidence was to go inside… a sure way to get caught.

If only they would just take her word for it. But with Avalon being so young, they would never believe her unless she had solid evidence proving her right. It also didn't help that everyone in town thought she was the devil incarnate- something she had her parents to thank for.

Sighing shakily, Avalon decided to wait until her mother was asleep. It shouldn't be too hard; Avalon had just recently slept, meaning she had at least a few more days until her body collapsed again.

Her mother, on the other hand, needed a lot more sleep than she did. As long as she played her cards right, this would be easy.

* * *

Her mother had gotten progressively more aggressive and anxious as the night went on, but eventually she finally did sleep. Just to be safe, Avalon waited a while longer before sneaking in quietly.

"It's just another mission; I do them all the time. Even better, it's a search and retrieve; simple. Wait… Tobi went on missions, I never did. Or did I? No, I didn't… and now isn't the time for this…" Avalon muttered to herself as she slinked her way through the trash littered house.

What was a good place to look for evidence of such a crime? A sample of meth would be ideal, but something like a suspicious note would be acceptable. Rarely would a note be lying around when it came to drug deals, but there was the occasional idiot.

Anxiously, Avalon realized that her best bet was probably in her mom's room… where her mom was. Her house was much too small for it to be anywhere else, as they were without both attic and basement. It was a rundown house with only one floor.

Her old house might have had more places to hide such things, but they moved after her father left them. Her fault, apparently, for being so unnatural. Needless to say, that was why her mother hated her.

Shaking herself from her thoughts, she pushed open the door to the room, cringing as it creaked. Her mother snorted in her sleep.

Avalon glanced around the room once she was in. It was plain, baring only a bed, a desk, and a dresser. Avalon wasted no time getting to work.

Nothing hidden within her clothes, nothing hidden within her desk, and nothing hidden under a loose floor board.

That left only one place…

Gulping, Avalon trudged towards the bed. She had been lucky enough that her mother hadn't woken up with her snooping through her room, but to snoop through the bed she slept in…

Avalon had a feeling she wasn't lucky enough to do so and remain undetected. Nonetheless, it needed to be done, and her mother hadn't so much as stirred since her arrival into the room.

Careful not to disturb her mother, the girl ducked down and began to search underneath the mattress with her small hands. Feeling something plastic, Avalon felt her heart flutter in anticipation as she shoved herself closer to the mattress so she could reach it.

She pushed herself away, a plastic bag filled with small, crushed crystals clutched triumphantly in her hands.

And of course, her mother chose that precise moment to wake up.

Avalon froze as her mother's dark grey eyes snapped open, peering blurrily into her soul before snapping towards the bag of meth in her hands. It wasn't until her brain registered what her daughter was holding that she actually woke up, snapping into awareness with a rage Avalon had never seen before.

"Give that to me!" she roared as she practically flew out of bed. Instead of freezing like she wanted to, Avalon quickly rose to her feet and sprinted out of the room like the hounds of hell were at her heels.

Her mother soon followed, an animalistic rage making her lose rational thought; all she cared about were the drugs in her daughter's hands.

"Avalon Owen, give it to me now!" she roared again, charging out of the house only seconds after her daughter.

Despite how fragile the sickly woman looked, she was chasing after Avalon with an almost unnatural strength and speed. It was as though the woman was possessed.

And despite how much Avalon tried to strengthen her young body, she was no match for her much older, much stronger mother. Her only hope was to lose her, but there was no crowd to hide in this late at night.

Shoving the bag into her coat pocket, she used all her will power to run faster. She ignored her burning lungs and thighs as adrenalin helped to push her along. Heart pounding in her ears, Avalon began to resent how far away she lived from the police.

She refused to give up, though. It was either this, or be some scum's play thing. She shuddered.

She lunged behind a car in a sharp turn, narrowly avoiding her mother's grasp. Knowing she couldn't keep up the chase much longer, Avalon looked for a place to hide.

"There!" she panted to herself, spotting an alley she had personally walked through many times. Normally alleys weren't the way to go, but she knew this one did not have a dead end.

Twisting sharply around another car, once again narrowly dodging her mother, Avalon sprinted into the alley, kicking trash behind her so that her mother would trip. Her mother stumbled without fail, and Avalon used that moment to dive next to a dumpster. She wedged herself halfway between the back of the dumpster and a wall, before pulling a rotting cardboard box towards herself to cover anything that might have still been seeable. She then held her breath, ignoring her lungs' burning desire to breathe.

She didn't dare breathe until she heard the last of her mother's angry curses and footsteps fade into the distance. Chest heaving as she caught her breath, she allowed herself a small smile.

She had won.

* * *

The remaining walk to the police was a paranoid one, with Avalon ducking behind an object every time she heard something.

Entering the station quietly, she was temporarily distracted, as was everyone else in the station that wasn't already asleep, by the News playing on the small television.

_… Thanks to a mysterious outside source, World War Three was thankfully avoided. The case was solved officially on November third, but we just now obtained the details._

_The assassination of German leader Karl Donitz's personal financial advisor, as well as the attempted assassination of Karl himself, was actually caused by a secret group of lingering Nazis. America and Britain had nothing to do with it…._

_…Another treaty is to be signed later on today by leaders of all involved countries…_

"Thank god! I was so worried we were about to have another war on our hands; which is the last thing we need, by the way. Gosh, I am having a bottle of champagne as soon as I get home!" an officer cheered, waking several dozing policemen and startling Avalon away from the TV.

Snapping her attention away from the News, Avalon was about to approach the officers when the doors burst open.

Her mother rushed into the room, looking hysterical. She seemed ready to say something to the bewildered police when her hollow eyes zeroed in on Avalon.

"You!" she snarled angrily, lunging thoughtlessly at the girl. Avalon shrieked, driving under her airborne mother before charging back out the doors.

So much for getting help from the police…

Dashing into the streets, Avalon let out a gasp as she was nearly run over by a sleek black Rolls-Royce. The car screeched to a halt only a few feet away from her frozen form.

She didn't have time to collect her bearings before she was tackled to the ground by her deranged mother.

* * *

**End.**

**This story actually did better than I expected. 5 whole reviews people! Whoot! I was originally going to end this chapter later, but it's late and I figured: "Hey, why not leave them with a cliff hanger?"**

**Hopefully you guys still like it! Thanks again for your wonderful reviews, and trust me they do make a difference. I am always open to suggestions!**

**REVIEW PLEASE!**


	3. Trust and Doubt

**Conflicting Natures**

**A/N: I don't own Death Note.**

**Chapter Two: Trust and Doubt**

_Fight._

It was a simple, unspoken command that reverberated through Avalon's mind so forcibly that it seemed nothing else in the world existed but that command. As she hit the ground, smacking her head against the concrete, the command literally shook her with its intensity.

In response to the instinctual order, she lashed out, thrusting her fist forward in an attempt to break free. Brief recounts of what Tobi had been taught whilst training flashed through her mind, but mostly it was her own primal aggression and yet another dose of adrenaline that drove her attacks.

Fight or Flight. When fleeing failed, all that was left to do was to fight. Even when it became apparent that nothing she could do could actually harm her mother, she fought. Even when every jerk, every punch, and every frail of her trapped legs proved futile, she still did not let up.

She _couldn't _let her mom win! If she did, then she was sure to meet Tobi's drastic fate.

"Where is it?" her mother hissed angrily, on the verge of hysteria. Completely unaffected by her daughter's assaults, she began to rifle through Avalon's clothes. Avalon jerked more violently, knowing it was only a matter of time.

Her mother's hand just barely brushed the pocket containing the meth when she suddenly jerked upright, froze, and fell stiffly to the ground.

Confused, Avalon's gaze drifted towards her immobile mother, taking notice of the occasional, involuntary twitch she gave. Before she could figure out what had just happened, she noticed a hand being offered to help her up.

Thankful, but slightly wary, she accepted the man's hand. She observed him as he helped her up.

He appeared to be in his late forties or early fifties. He had slightly wrinkled skin and kind blue eyes; his greying hair was slicked back professionally, but not greasily. His mustache was well-trimmed, and he had glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. In his hand was a Taser.

"That's what happened!" Avalon exclaimed in realization, "He hit her with a Taser and her nervous system went haywire, resulting in her collapse! Both of us were too busy to notice…"

"Very perceptive of you," the man said with a knowing, fond smile, "Would you mind telling me what the commotion was all about?"

"Meth!" she blurted hurriedly, as though at any moment her mother would become reanimated and this golden opportunity for help would be lost forever. Without giving the man an opportunity to respond, she pulled the meth from her pocket and thrust it into his hands.

Always get the most important information out first, and then explain from there.

As the man examined the crushed up crystals in disbelief, Avalon continued to explain the events that had occurred that night. It was a rushed, slightly incoherent explanation; her body was still full of adrenaline, making her speech more fast and shaky.

When she finished, she flushed in sudden embarrassment. Would Tobi have reacted this way? No, of course not; Tobi had always been one to keep her composure… But wasn't she Tobi? No, she wasn't.

"It appears you had quite the night," the man said kindly, "Don't worry; I will take care of things from here. I will ensure that the authorities are at your house in the morning to confront the drug dealer. As for yourself, is it safe to assume you don't have anywhere to go?"

She considered lying. While the man had helped her, and while he _seemed_ reliable enough, she still didn't know him; didn't trust him. Trusting a stranger- savior or no- was not in her nature; she had seen too much, been treated too coldly to immediately assume a person had no ill intention.

Avalon hadn't always been skeptical. She could, in fact, recall a time at one point in her life when she was trusting to a fault. It wasn't until after she had been kidnapped that… No, that's Tobi. Tobi had been trusting to a fault, Tobi had been kidnapped, and Tobi had died; not her.

Scowling, she pushed aside her annoyingly frequent internal dispute. Now simply wasn't the time. Actually, there was never a time for such thoughts; they were worthless and hindering. Too bad she couldn't rid herself of them…

Nonetheless, that was a problem for another time.

And so, despite her better judgment, she admitted to the man that she was without residence. It would've been foolish to lie- a fact she could admit to but was in no way pleased about. For, despite being a protégée, she was still but a child with nowhere to go. Lying would not only result in her having to live on the streets, but it would also put her at risk to the one thing she feared most: rape.

Of course, the true deciding factor had been the fact that her gut told her she could trust the man. Logic was just an added bonus to her decision.

Oblivious to her thoughts, the man smiled.

"I thought as much. What's your name, child?" he asked kindly. Avalon scowled.

She hated it when people asked her for her name; she didn't know how to answer them. Most of the time, she just lied. It was easier that way- not to mention safer. Despite this, however, she felt as though she owed the man at least her name. Of course, that still didn't change the fact she didn't know how to respond. Was she Avalon? Or was she Tobi?

"… T-Avalon," she responded after a moment of internal debate.

"Well then, Avalon, my name is Quillish Wammy, and I run an orphanage. You can stay there until this matter is resolved," the man invited, ignoring the slight uncertainty that showed in her voice when she spoke her name.

Hearing her immobile mother give a small groan, she swiftly nodded.

"If you would, please feel free to enter my car. I, myself, have some things to take care of before we go," Quillish told her, pointing towards the Rolls-Royce that had nearly run her over. She was hesitant to get anywhere near it, let alone enter.

"It's Okay, you have nothing to fear," he assured her, sensing her hesitation. Aware she didn't have much of a choice, Avalon approached the vehicle.

Quillish, meanwhile, turned with a sigh towards the authorities that had gathered in response to the trouble outside their station.

When Avalon entered the vehicle, she was surprised to see another child there. He appeared to be her age, with a small stature and baby fat clinging to an otherwise slim form. His skin was pale, and his hair was black and messy. His most striking feature, however, were his grey eyes; large and calculating with sleepless shadows underneath. It was uncanny how similar they were to her own eyes.

The boy seemed to be observing her as well. He eyed her large coat slightly longer than necessary- she could, after all, be hiding a weapon in such a bulky article of clothing- before moving on to her face. They met eyes, and Avalon felt a jolt run through her body.

It was like time froze; like the whole universe just came to a sudden standstill. Something in her mind screamed at her, trying to tell her something, yet it was muffled. Her senses were going haywire, and she wondered if she would pass out as she tried to sort through them all.

Mustering the last bit of her strength, she ripped her eyes away from his. She suddenly felt like she had been hit with a Taser, too.

Looking into the boy's eyes, she had been overcome with a sudden sense of purpose. Now if only she knew what that purpose was.

* * *

**DONE! Short, I know… Really sorry about that (especially after how long I made you guys wait). Do you guys think Watari is in character? Also, how should she find out L's name? Obviously L has to tell her, but how and when? He isn't exactly the type to go introducing himself…**

**I was going to make this longer, but I figured you guys had waited enough. On the bright side, during my small hiatus, I got 10 reviews! I am BEYOND honored! I love you guys!**

**Please review~!**


	4. Childish and Mature

**Conflicting Natures**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note. **

**Chapter Three: Childish and Mature **

The minute she fully sat herself down, all energy seemed to leave her. Her entire body felt as though it were made of lead. Avalon could barely even lift her head.

She was terrifyingly close to falling asleep.

Quillish was still talking to the police, who were nodding solemnly in understanding to whatever it was the man was telling them. They had been talking for an irritatingly long time. Though she couldn't bring herself to hold it against them, knowing better than anyone how long complex matters took to settle with the law.

Her mother seemed to have regained control of her body, though it made little difference considering she was handcuffed. Avalon didn't know whether to laugh or scoff at her screeching, wiggling form.

Despite feeling his stare burning holes into the back of her head, Avalon didn't dare to so much as peak at the boy sitting beside her. Everything about him unnerved her; his stare, his eyes, the way he sat … _everything_.

And yet, she couldn't help but feel drawn to him. He was a flame and she was a moth. It was disturbing, and she didn't like it… She didn't like _him_. Who was he to make her feel that way? Did he even know?

So, going against what seemed to be every instinct she possessed, she ignored him.

Minutes felt like hours. Her eyelids no longer felt terrifyingly heavy, but the uneasy sensation of being watched got worse. Quillish was still talking to the officers, her mom was still trying to wiggle free, and the boy was _still _staring at her. Didn't he know it was rude to stare?

She shifted uneasily in her seat, mobility gradually returning. Her steadily building unease was slipping small amounts of adrenaline back into her system, effectively energizing her. Though with the amount of adrenaline her body had released today, she wouldn't be surprised to have an overdose- otherwise known as an adrenergic storm.

"You are shaking," the boy remarked suddenly, making her jerk her head towards him fast enough to give herself a whiplash. The initial shock of being addressed, combined with her building adrenaline, made her reaction a lot more exaggerated than she would have liked.

The boy brought his thumb to his lips, nibbling softly on the nail as he continued to observe her.

"What?" she demanded more than asked. The boy flinched back.

She suddenly wondered if this was how other people felt around her. The thought made her guilty. The boy didn't deserve her harsh treatment; it wasn't as if he was _trying_ to freak her out.

"What?" she repeated, softer this time. The boy next to her eyed her warily, discouraged by her original harsh tone, before relaxing as he took in her lack of hostility.

"You are shaking," he repeated, gently rubbing his upper lip between his thumb and forefinger. It was a habit used to calm himself, if she had to guess; something to soothe him and give him confidence.

"Adrenaline," Avalon answered curtly to his indirect question. Then, with much effort and will on her part, she looked away again.

Unnerving…

The boy did not speak again. When she felt herself relax, Avalon knew that he had finally looked away.

Avalon, fighting the urge to observe the boy, decided to distract herself the only way she knew how: her Sudoku Rubik's Cube.

They sat together in silence until Quillish entered the vehicle.

* * *

Quillish, she discovered, was a very important man. Not only owner of an orphanage, but an inventor, too. The man had connections everywhere.

The car ride, despite what she had expected, had not been silent. It had been filled with information and explanation. She was pleasantly surprised to find that she would not be left in the dark.

Tomorrow, an ambush would lie wait at her house for the drug dealer- with both Quillish and herself far away from the scene, of course. The police were to contact Quillish after the ordeal and update him; not at all a common occurrence, but proper connections could accomplish anything.

Avalon was finding herself becoming gradually more comfortable with her decision to stay with the man.

The ride from Eastleigh to Winchester was short. Eastleigh was close to Winchester, practicallyright next door. Apparently Quillish and the boy had been passing through Eastleigh on their way to the orphanage when they happened upon her.

Basically, had the event occurred even a moment later, she would've been screwed.

The orphanage was beautiful; a fine piece of architecture. The gate was barred steel, with crosses topping each individual bar top. The actual building was large, and the childish side of her made her akin it to a castle. Though in reality, it looked much more like an oversized church than anything else.

Pulling into the long drive way, Avalon took a moment to admire how vast the property was. Yards of grass filled the property, and trimmed hedges bordered the building.

She was in awe.

"Kinda reminds me of the university I attended… Wait… I didn't go to college. That was Tobi. Am I Tobi? No, I'm not," she mumbled to herself, awe fading as an all too familiar frustration overcame her.

The boy took note of the odd behavior, staring at her curiously. As though sensing that his attention was back on her, she paused in her self-debate to glance at him anxiously.

He made her uneasy. For some reason, the realization disappointed him. It was not like that was an uncommon occurrence; many people were intimidated by his presence.

Avalon, unbeknownst to the boy, could relate. Unusually high intelligence scared people off, especially when possessed by children. It was, however, not his intelligence that troubled her; it was the inexplicable feelings he gave her.

It was like nothing she had ever experienced before; awake or asleep. It wasn't romantic and heartwarming; Tobi had felt attraction before and Avalon would be able to recognize it had she felt it.

No, the feeling was frustrating. It was a nagging sense of '_YOU'RE FORGETTING SOMETHING!'_ combined with an odd tugging sensation that seemed to scream _'STAY NEXT TO HIM AT ALL TIMES!'_.

She felt as if she should know him, as if he was important to her somehow… and that bothered her. He _shouldn't _be important to her, because she _didn't _know him.

What alarmed her most about it, however, was that _Tobi _had never felt that way before.

When she wasn't struggling to remind herself that she was not Tobi, Avalon was comparing herself to Tobi. Tobi was everything she strived to be. Tobi was what represented normal to her.

Though admittedly, that mindset probably worsened her identity crisis. She just couldn't help it.

The car pulled to a stop.

* * *

The room was plain. There was a single bed with white sheets, the floor was made of polished wood, the walls were white, and beside the bed there was a single dresser with a lamp.

Very typical and very plain…. Avalon liked it.

Quillish, after parking, had given both her and the boy a tour of the orphanage. The interior was just as extravagant as the exterior. It truly did remind her of college; it had classrooms and everything!

During her tour, she saw a few night-owlish children staring at them. She made it point to ignore them and their whispering. From the corner of her eye, she saw the boy do the same.

The orphanage had fewer children than she was expecting for a building of such colossal size. Granted, there were still a sufficient amount of children; from what she had seen, there were at least fifty other occupied rooms. However, fifty was still a considerably small amount when the building had the capacity to house _hundreds_ of children.

Avalon wasn't complaining, though. It was because they were so low on children that she got a room of her own.

Without her condolence, her mind drifted back to the boy. They were so alike… and yet, so different. She hadn't talked to him since their brief conversation in the car, but she hadn't needed to.

After all, she wasn't an FBI agent for nothing!

… Wait… That was Tobi…

Avalon sighed and sat on the bed, messaging her forehead. By now everyone was asleep, but Avalon refused to join them in their nighttime slumber. She didn't plan on another rest for quite some time. However, if stressful events kept occurring, she feared she wouldn't last the week without another crash.

She sighed again, eyes burning from exhaustion she refused to give in to. She needed coffee; a big, sugar-filled cup of coffee.

Sliding off the bed, Avalon landed with a dull thud on the ground. Slightly on edge, unsure what would happen if she was caught awake at such an ungodly hour, she quietly opened the door and tip-toed her way to the kitchen.

The kitchen was on the first floor, right next to the dining room. The dining room was simply a room filled with tables that were covered in white sheets. It was a room solely for eating, whereas the kitchen was for cooking and storing food.

She entered the kitchen as quietly as possible, painfully aware that the room was off limits. She glanced around suspiciously before smirking contently. She was in the clear.

Glancing around the kitchen, she spotted a coffee-maker on the counter near the stove. Pushing a chair to help her reach, she clambered onto it. Conveniently next to the coffee-maker was a bag of ground coffee beans. She grinned, snatching the bad. This was almost too eas-

"What are you doing?"

Avalon nearly had a heart attack. Letting out a startled squeal, she dropped the bag in her hands. Powder exploded at her feet, covering both the chair the floor once settled. She whirled around to face the direction of the voice, terrified.

What she found made her blink, half relieved and half angered. There, sitting in his odd little way on the floor, was the boy. A strawberry was lodged halfway in his mouth and the ground around him was littered with strawberry leaves. There was an empty bowl next to him.

"Now look what you made me do!" she hissed in annoyance, gesturing towards the scattered coffee powder. The culprit blinked owlish eyes up at her.

"I didn't make you do anything. I merely asked you a question; spoiling the coffee was completely your own doing," he replied. Her eye twitched.

What a bastard. He was entirely deserving of her cold treatment.

"What are you even doing here?" she snapped quietly, glaring at him. He flinched, but this time she felt no remorse. Let the bastard be scared, shy, sad, or whatever the hell he felt that made him flinch. He deserved it.

"What are _you _doing here?" he countered after a moment, glaring back at her defiantly. She growled at him.

"I asked first!"

Before the boy could respond, the light switched on. Both children stiffened.

"What the bloody hell is going on here?" they heard a woman screech. They both turned around to come face to face with a tall, plump woman.

The woman's name was Gwendolyn McBride; more commonly known as Ms. Gwen throughout the orphanage. She was a woman of Irish descent who had frizzy red hair that she always kept in a tight bun and brown eyes. She was the caretaker in charge of cooking and cleaning, and was very strict when it came to her work.

She was also infamous for her bad temper.

The children remained frozen and unresponsive, unsure how to go about this new turn of events. Quillish had warned them both about the woman beforehand, but they hadn't expected to meet her so soon… Or at all. It had, in fact, been both of their intentions to avoid meeting the woman at all costs.

A few more tense seconds ticked by until Avalon couldn't take it anymore. Grabbing the boy's hand, she yanked him to his feet and ran. She was pleasantly surprised when he followed willingly.

"Get back here!" they heard her shout, the demand followed closely by the thundering of her heavy, speeding stomps.

The children sped up, bounding up the stairs faster than a pair of jack rabbits. Upon reaching the top, however, they collided with something hard and fell gracelessly on their rumps.

"So _this _is what the ruckus is all about," Quillish mused as he stared down at the cringing children.

He had been awoken by Ms. Gwen's shout, and had followed the sound of racing footsteps only to find his two new occupants to be the source. He smiled inwardly to himself; first day here, and already they were causing trouble. While that would anger or annoy most, it simply served to amuse Quillish.

"Mr. Wammy! Oh, Mr. Wammy! Thank god you captured those hooligans!" Ms. Gwen wheezed upon reaching them, "They destroyed my kitchen!"

"We did _not _destroy it! You're overreacting," Avalon scoffed, straightening her shoulders in defiance. The boy glanced at her, before straightening his own shoulders.

Quillish, ever the observant man, noticed the subtle exchange and smiled fondly. This girl, whether she knew it or not, already had quite the effect on the boy he had recently taken under his wing.

Children were, after all, so easily influenced.

"Now, now Ms. Gwen, I'm sure the children meant no harm," Quillish chuckled. Ms. Gwen looked appalled.

"But Mr. Wammy! My-"

"Nonetheless," he continued, ignoring her interruption, "that does not excuse their actions. I will ensure they clean up whatever mess they made in the kitchen. Go back to bed, Ms. Gwen. Everything will be fit as a fiddle when you wake up in the morning."

Face red, Ms. Gwen opened and closed her mouth in silent protest before huffing. Shooting a glare towards the children, she marched off with her shoulders slumped in defeat. Once she was gone, Quillish turned towards said children.

"Now then, let's go see the mess you two made."

* * *

It was a bad idea to leave her room.

Sitting awkwardly at a table in the dining room, waiting for lunch like every other child, Avalon found herself at the center of attention. Whispers erupted as she was blatantly stared at.

"I thought the new kid was supposed to be a boy?" whispered one child not too far from her.

"Maybe he's a tranny?" offered another, obviously more vulgar, child. Avalon scowled at the comment.

"Nah, she's obviously a girl. I think Mr. Wammy picked her up off the streets by chance. I wonder where the original new kid is…" whispered the first kid again.

Thoroughly displeased by the situation, Avalon considered leaving. She decided against it. She had already missed breakfast this morning, and her stomach was rumbling in protest at having not eaten all day.

Early that morning, whilst on her way down to the dining room, Quillish had intercepted her and requested her presence in his office. She had followed without complaint.

After that, she spent the rest of the morning in his office being debriefed and questioned.

The police had successfully ambushed the drug addict, and had enough evidence to not only lock him up, but her mother as well.

With no guardian- her father having long since disappeared and the rest of her family being nonexistent- to speak of, Avalon was to remain at Wammy's for the time being. Later on she would have to take an IQ test to see if she was qualified to remain or if she needed to be transferred.

In the meantime, Quillish advised her not to give out her real name freely… or at all, if she could help it. Names were power, he had told her. Honest introductions were something he wanted to keep the children in his orphanage- for they were children with the potential to wield great power- from doing.

She didn't need to be told twice.

"Nah, definitely a tranny," the rude child declared, not even attempting to muffle his volume. Avalon growled under her breath, pulled out of her ponderings by his obnoxious voice.

Maybe it _would _be better to just leave? Her stomach roared its protest at the mere thought.

What had she eaten last? She couldn't remember actually eating anything since the morning of her birthday; though she did have a cup of coffee after cleaning the kitchen. Quillish was surprisingly understanding about her "situation", and she had a sneaking suspicion that the boy shared her sleeping problem.

"Speaking of which… where _is _the boy? Why isn't he suffering through the judgmental whispers with me?" she grumbled to herself, shifting in her seat. The action caused yet another wave of whispers to break out, and she tried her best to ignore it.

Just when she thought she would snap, the food was declared ready. Upon the mouthwatering scent of grilled salmon, all Avalon's grievances were forgotten.

What did it matter where the boy was, anyway? As far as she was concerned, the less she saw him, the better.

* * *

**Done!**

**Now I know L isn't 100% in character, but you have to remember that he is still a child. While he will still retain his dominate character traits, there are times when he will act differently than his adult self. **

**A couple of questions for my lovely reviewers: Do you guys think I should change my summary? Am I making this story progress too slowly? Should I speed it up?**

**Ducky9002: **Thank you so much! While I am not going to completely use your suggestion, it DID give me an idea! Your advice was much appreciated and very helpful!

**REVIEW PLEASE!**


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